Black Magic Woman
by DeanFTWinchester
Summary: Dean Winchester seems to have met the girl of his dreams. After one meeting, Dean finds himself under this mysterious girl's spell, but could that actually be the case? Sam thinks so... Dean/OFC. M for language.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Supernatural, however, I do own Keller. Yay for me.**

Chapter 1

The gentle roar of the Impala was the only sound on the deserted highway. That is, other than the Blue öyster Cult blaring from its windows.

Sam and Dean Winchester coasted down the otherwise silent road, heading towards Mazomanie, Wisconsin, in search of their latest demon. They`d been chasing this one for days and still had yet to figure out _what _exactly it was. They were just following the signs; cattle death, electrical storms- the usual.

"Any luck?" Dean asked his brother, whose eyes were glued to the screen of his laptop. When he got no reply, Dean took his eyes off the road to glance at Sam. Seeing that the taller Winchester didn't appear to have heard him, he tried again.

"What are you lookin' at, porn or something?" he teased. Sam's head shot up as he glared daggers at his older brother.

"I'm researching this damn demon. And I think I've finally got something," He replied. Dean looked expectantly at his brother, urging him to continue. "Well, the signs are so basic and there's so many demons that it could be really, cause they've all got nearly the same warnings."

"So far, all bad news." Sam ignored the comment and carried on with his debriefing.

"_But, _they've got something else in common too. All but one of them can be killed the same way- silver knife in the heart," he concluded in a manner that Dean thought was all too dramatic. The older man considered this information.

"So basically, there's a shitload of demons that this bastard _could_ be, but that doesn't matter 'cause they all die the same way?" he questioned. When Sam confirmed this with a nod, Dean turned back to the road and shook his head in disbelief. "Now this is just getting sad. It's barely even a challenge anymore!" he complained.

Sam raised an eyebrow. "You _want_ to have a hard time killing something that's turning cows into piles of ribbons?" he asked incredulously.

"Well, I'd like at least a fight!"

"I swear Dean; you're like a mystery, wrapped in a riddle, wrapped in a jerk." He shook his head. Dean grinned with his mouth packed full of potato chips.

"That's why you love me, bitch," he retorted.

The taller Winchester snorted and they lapsed into silence. Which was promptly broken by Dean's window-rattling belch. Sam made a noise of disgust and went back to his laptop.

* * *

Dean hopped out of the Impala just as Sam was closing the trunk.

"Got the knife?" Sam nodded in reply. "Great. Let's ice this motherfucker."

They walked down the moonlit streets that their latest demon had been prowling, wondering where to start. They honestly didn't know.

"Dude, I think we're losing our touch," Dean said after several minutes of aimless wandering. "I mean, we basically know _nothing_ about this case. We don't even know what kind of freakin' demon we're after!" Dean shook his head in self-disgust. "We suck."

Sam had to agree. They had their weapon and a vague location but nothing specific. They _did_ suck.

Then, out of some random coincidence that's only possible cause could've been fate, they heard a scream. Bolting off in the direction of the sound, Sam prayed to whatever God there was out there, that this was _their_ demon.

They rounded a corner into an alley to see a girl being held up against the grimy wall by what could only be described as a demon. Seriously. It was the spitting image of one of those stupid looking things from _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_. It was actually _green_.

Sam and Dean both stopped in their tracks upon sight of the horrible cliché. In that moment, an unexpected incident occurred which had the Winchesters frozen in place, watching the scene unfold.

The girl put her arms up and in a movement almost too fast for their eyes to follow; she broke the demon's hold on her and pushed it _back_. A heavy roundhouse kick then landed on its face, and she spun around and suddenly had turned the tables. She now had the demon against the wall, holding it by its slimy throat. The demon struggled and gurgled through its own slime, and she smashed its head back into the wall. Then she glanced at Sam, her eyes drawn to a glint of silver in his hand.

"Hand me that knife, would you?" Sam was smacked out of his stupor at the request and complied quickly; tossing the knife he didn't even remember brandishing.

Not bothering with thanks, the girl caught the weapon with impeccable reflexes and promptly drove it home, straight through the demon's heart.

Dean blinked. He wasn't stunned by the girl's action like his brother (though he had to admit, it was pretty impressive). No, there was something else that made him stop dead. Something about the girl. A sense of recognition and... belonging. He knew he'd never met her, but that he definitely wanted to. He thanked his lucky stars he'd found her, because whatever this weird- and really cliché, he thought- feeling was, he didn't want it to stop.

* * *

Oh jeez, do I need a drink. Great fight, but now I gotta deal with the body- the weird, green body...- and then these guys are gonna want an explanation that I just don't want to give. No matter how gorgeous they are.

Deciding _not_ to deal with it, I covered the body with some junk lying around the alley and started to walk out, heading towards my favourite bar (and by favourite, I mean, only one in town), a couple of blocks away.

Don't get the wrong idea, I'm not really an irresponsible person, but I've had a really bad day and I just need to sit back and relax with one of my dearest, darlingest friends- tequila.

My name's Keller. Nice to meet you. I'm twenty four years old, enjoy long walks on the beach, and I'm not -I repeat, _not_- a hunter.

Yeah that's right, you heard me. Despite the fact that I just killed a demon, I don't do that as a full time job. As a matter of fact, I'm more or less unemployed, but that's beside the point. See, I learned about demons when- Oh wait, the tall guy's talkin' to me. Hang on.

"Hey! Wait a second!" Talls-McGee called. Sigh. Try as I might, I can't escape responsibility. It's a curse, really. I slowly turned to face the dude. And his hot friend.

Speaking of his hot friend- and when I say hot, I mean _hot_. Really. Muscular, chiselled, strong looking, but with just a hint of vulnerability. And dear sweet lord, his eyes. They're like fuckin' lasers! Uh... good lasers. Sexy lasers. Which are currently burning right into me, giving me this weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. A nice one though.

Snapping myself out of my schmooze-y thoughts, I looked at the one who addressed me. Jesus Christ, he's a fucking Sasquatch. Albeit, a hot Sasquatch, but a Sasquatch nonetheless.

"What seems to be the problem, Officer?" I quipped innocently.

"Uh... just wondering... what the hell was that? I mean," he paused, glancing over me, "you don't look like a hunter."

"I'm not," I cut in quickly. Possibly too quickly. The Yeti's eyes narrowed a fraction. Yep. Too quick. "Thanks for noticing." My intention was to ease the...tension... but I did not succeed. Story of my life.

"Right. Well then, that _really_ raises the question. Do you know what that _was_?"

I raised my eyebrows at this guy. He seemed to think I was some kind of damsel in distress. Though that would explain them riding into the alley like knights in shining armour. And here I thought chivalry was dead.

"'Course I knew what it was." I stopped and considered. "Well, not specifically, but it was definitely a demon. A very cheesy demon, if you ask me. I mean, honestly. Green? Couldn't you at least _try_ to blend in? What's next, horns?" I internally chuckled to myself- which is pretty hard to do. Just FYI.

"Well, uh- if you're not a hunter, then could you possibly, I dunno, explain yourself?" the hotter of the two finally spoke up, his first appearance in our little convo, and oh my god if I thought his eyes were sexy, then his voice was practically and eargasm. Husky, and rough, and just all around making my knees turn into Jell-O, and I really don't blame them.

"Well, first I need a drink. Then I'll explain. You're welcome to join me, s'long as you're buyin'?" I hoped they would, other than my keys; there is literally nothing in my pockets.

Luckily, Captain Sexy Pants jumped at the occasion and was in front of me in an instant, thrusting his hand out for me to shake.

"Dean Forrester. That's my brother Sam. I'll take you up on that offer," I took his hand and shook it, thinking.

"Dean Forrester, huh? Where have I heard that name before?" I thought for a moment and 'Mr. Forrester' seemed to tense up a bit. I glanced at the other 'Forrester'. And it clicked. "Oh! Oh oh!! I know. That was the name of Rory's boyfriend on _Gilmore Girls_!" My amused gaze skirted past the shocked –and embarrassed- 'Dean' and rested on the other Faux Forrester. "Kinda looked like you."

Having made the large men in front of me sufficiently uncomfortable, I smiled sweetly and walked backwards towards the bar again. "Now that I've cracked your code and discovered your secret passion for girly soaps, wanna tell me your real names?"

The shorter man seemed humiliated and genuinely amused at the same time, but snapped out of his bemusement quickly and smiled that devilishly handsome grin at me. "Alright, let me try that again. I'm Dean _Winchester_, and that's still my brother Sam. Now. Which way to the booze?" he asked smoothly.

Suppressing a chuckle at his instant change in demeanour, I pointed in the right direction and we were off.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello to the few people reading this story! Thanks to all who favourited, and alerted my story, and to the one person who reviewed. Needless to say, reviews make life full of unicorns that ride on silver moonbeams and shoot rainbows out their asses. I'd love to get some more of those lovely buggers. Here's chappitah two of my lamely titled fic, which reminds me that I'm definitely open to suggestions for a new title, perhaps you could express ideas in the form of a review, **_**hint hint**_**. Enjoy!**

Chapter 2

Five minutes with Dean Winchester was enough to tell you his exact intentions with me. Hell, five _seconds_ could tell you his intentions. Yep, the man is a horn dog- a ladies' man through and through, from the horrible pick up lines to his charming smile. And was he ever good at it.

If that sexy-ass voice I was talking about earlier didn't already have you under his spell, one flash of his devious smirk, and you're done for. But this got me thinking, no one can be _that_ charming all on their own, right? I was seriously considering the theory that he really _did_ have girls under his spell. It's entirely possible, you know. Nowadays, you can never really tell who's a demon, and who's human, or if your neighbour's casting spells on you so that you'll rake your own damn leaves, or if you're doing it out of the goodness of your heart. There's all this stuff going on, evil and good, and you just can't _tell_.

But, I digress.

So, in my five minutes with Dean, I learned that he was a ladies' man, and that he was a possessive one at that. Seriously, some guy was eying me from over at the bar, and once Dean noticed, he started shooting glares at the poor guy. And his glares were _good_. I think the guy peed his pants.

But back to the point, Dean is one Possessive Peter. Yup. I'm not even _with_ him and he's turned into a nut bar. I've known him for an amount of minutes I can count without taking off my sock and shoes and he's gone Alpha Bitch on me. It could prove problematic.

"So, uh, Keller..." Sam started. He was a cutie pie. Not smoulderingly yummy like his big brother, who was little in comparison to Sammy boy, but cute nonetheless. "Now that you have your drink, could you explain how you know about demons?" Jeez. Right to the point, this one. Very impatient. I'd _just_ gotten my tequila, hadn't even gotten to take a sip. For shame.

"Now hang on a second there, Sparky," I began, holding my hands out, palms forward. Dean chuckled at (I assume) my nickname for his little (big) brother. "Let me at least get a little of my alcohol _in_ me before I start spewing my guts." I paused. "Verbally. I promise I won't barf." I paused again. "Unless, of course, you make me drink milk. Then I'll barf. On you. Ye jerk."

For some reason, I can't imagine why, The Winchesters, (I felt that it should be capitalized. Sounds like a title to me) were giving me these looks... they were nearly identical. I instantly dubbed it the _aBUH?! _look. Catchy, I know.

So, The Winchesters were _aBUH_ing me and I realized that I had started to snicker and decided to cover it up by taking a much deserved shot of tequila. Yummy. I looked up and saw the lovely Dean's lovely eyes. Also yummy.

"Right." I decided to get back on topic. What was I talking about before milk barf? "Right, so. I've had my tequila. How do I know about demons? That is the question. Indeed. The question. One that I shall answer wi –"

"Quit stalling and tell us!" Dean – the (sexy) jerk- cut me off! I glared at him and took another shot.

"Relax, short bus. Right. I know about demons 'cause my dad was a nut job. He didn't even _know_ about demons, but he knew about 'em, ya know?" Judging by their blank and slightly exasperated looks, they didn't.

Sam sighed, "Could you make that just a bit clearer?"

"Sorry. Uh. My dad... he was... one of those satanic worshippers." I was getting a slight variation of the _aBUH _look. It was like they were super shocked or something. You'd think in their line of work they'd have come across a lot of people like my Wacko Jacko pops.

"Dude, shut your mouth, you're catchin' barflies. Not that they mind. Anyway. So my dad worshipped Lucifer and he had these books. I'm not sure where the fuck he got 'em from, but as far as I've seen, they were the real deal. I read most of them as a kid. So, as it turns out, daddio was actually prayin' to Lucifer. I found out that the books were real and that's about it." Concluded. There's my story folks, hope you enjoyed, drive safe.

"What happened to your dad?" Deanio asked. Seems I'm not quite done then, sigh.

"Well, all that praying seemed to actually be gettin' through and he got possessed and I didn't see him for about... 6 years, I guess." God I didn't want to talk about this. Don't ask, don't ask, don't ask, don't –

"What happened after 6 years?"

Sam, you nosy douche, read my expression: I DON'T WANT TO TA –

"He showed up at my apartment, still possessed – same demon. I exorcised him, but..." I trailed off. Just leave it at that, just leave it, leave it, leave –

"But..." DAMMIT SAMMY, AREN'T YOU LISTENING TO MY THOUGHTS?! JESUS! I looked away, avoided his eyes, which by the way, seemed very hard now that I look closely...

Dean saved me. "Sam, I don't think she wants to talk about it." Aw, I could just _kiss_ him. I think I said so with my eyes, 'cause he raised one of his cocky little eyebrows at me. He was one sexy saviour.

"No, Dean, we need to know," Sam insisted. Well, Dean tried. I could see Sam wasn't gonna budge, so I took two more shots of tequila - which just keep _appearing_ – and finished my story. Ack.

"Fine. I exorcised him, but since my dad had been possessed for _six years_, he didn't quite make it. You know, how demons don't really take care of the meat suits they're wearing. So, given that my dad happened to be this particular meat suit, I got to watch him choke to death on his own blood, and there was not a fucking thing I could do about it." I took one more shot, slammed my glass down and left the nosy sons of bitches to watch me walk directly out of their fucked up, miserable lives,

* * *

After several moments of incredulous staring, Dean turned on his brother. Well, not so much turned as, smacked in the back of the head.

"You had to, didn't you? I mean, you _saw_ her face! That was not the face of someone who was going to tell a story about puppies jumping through rainbows into a field of freakin' chew toys! That was the face of a girl who was sad and scared and you just had to push her, you _had_ to. Fucking asshole!"

"What the hell is your problem, man? You just met her, and you're going off on me cause I made her _upset_?" Sam stared at his brother, almost as pissed as he was. "What is up with you?!"

"She's...well... uh..." Dean honestly couldn't think of a good reason as to why he was acting so weird. So, he settled for whatever he could think of... which wasn't much. "You totally ruined my chances of getting laid. Bitch."

Seemingly accepting his brother's pig-like explanation, Sam reciprocated.

"Jerk."

* * *

Stupid, fucking, asshole, bastards, _can't take a hint_. Morons. Grumble grumble.

I was wandering around in the dark, wishing I could go back to the bar. I wasn't nearly drunk enough yet. But nooooo. The Winchesters are there in all their Assholic Glory. Don't even say it! It's a word now. I'm not going anywhere near those douchefucks ever again!

And that's when my face – my lovely, unfortunately sober face! – was smashed in by what I could only assume was a fist.

Awesome.

**______________________________________________________________________________**

**It's a little shorter than the last one, but hey, what can ya do? Remember, reviews are better than pie. Well, not quite. But they're up there!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello my friends! Wuddup. I hope you're all thrilled for chapter 3, I know I am. It's a very exciting occasion. Guess what! I got **_**FOUR WHOLE REVIEWS **_**last chapter!!! I'm ecstatic. And I'm not even being sarcastic. It's wonderful. Thanks again to everybody who left those four reviews, I super duper appreciated them and would LOVE if you left another? Perhaps? Maybe? Please? Anyway- here's chapter three!**

Chapter 3

Sam and Dean were just entering their latest sleazy motel. Dean, tossed the seahorse keychain – it was an Under the Sea themed room tonight – onto the table by the door, and glanced at his brother, Sam had been in a funk ever since the bar. But it wasn't the moping, woe-is-me funk that the taller brother usually sported after a weird hunt, like they'd had tonight. No, it was more of a... thoughtful, angry brood.

"Whatcha thinkin' about so hard over there, Sammy? Trying to remember the last time you got laid?"

Sam ignored the jab, and answered his pest of a brother's first question. "Keller. She was... did she seem odd to you?"

"Odd like... lives in the forest and eats tree bark odd, or our kinda odd?" Dean quipped.

"Our kind of odd."

Dean considered. "Well. Everyone who knows about our line of work seems odd really. Plus, you forced her to talk about bad family shit. And if anyone knows about not wanting to talk about bad family shit, it's us. So you really dropped the ball on that one, Sammy." Dean slapped Sam's shoulder. "I was gonna get laid tonight, and she was _hot_! So thanks a lot." Dean sulked and sat on the edge of his bed – the one closest to the door.

"But – didn't you notice her eyes?" Sam was relentless. _He definitely needs to find a girlfriend. Or just a girl, really_, Dean thought.

Lying back on the bed, Dean replied, dreamily, "Yeah. Sexy eyes too."

Sam made an exasperated noise and leaned forward in his chair at the table, his elbows now on his knees. "They were purple, Dean."

Dean closed his eyes. "Mm. Yeah. So?"

"So? Normal, _human_, people don't have purple eyes, Dean!" he huffed.

"Maybe she's a goddess. Seemed like a goddess to me..." Dean trailed off. Eyes closed, he looked the perfect picture of confidence and relaxation. Sam felt a wave of envy sweep over him, but it passed and he was on the war path.

"And that's another thing. You're falling all over yourself for her. I know you... respect the beauty of a woman... but this is different. You're acting like a teenage girl with a crush. It's like she's got you under some kinda spell!"

Dean opened one eye to look at his distraught brother. He had a serious problem with this girl. _This hot, mysterious girl... Dean_ mentally shook himself. No time for thoughts like that._ Save 'em for your wet dreams pal._

"Alright, whatever, man. Pull the pool cue out of your ass and go get me a Coke. Then I'll shut up about Keller." He bargained.

Sam shook his gigantic head. "No. Get it yourself." He punctuated his refusal by flopping onto his designated bed and flipping on the T.V.

His brother, however, really wanted a Coke. So, Dean reluctantly rolled off the bed and walked out the door, in the direction of the soda machines.

Putting change in the slot, Dean waited for his drink to drop. And then he heard a scream.

Leaving his Coke and change behind, he followed the sound.

_Have no fear, a Winchester is here!_

* * *

Ow. My assumption was correct. Definitely a fist. In my face. Again, I say, ow. Whoever decided punching was fun needs to be on the receiving end of a swift kick in the ass.

Once the knuckle-induced haze cleared, I answered whoever the hell's goddamn knuckles those were with a good swing of my own. Hearing the tell-tale crack of a broken nose, I was satisfied and decided punching wasn't so bad.

As my attacker bled, I finally got a good look at him. It was another one of those green guys. What the hell! There's two of thesegreen things on the planet, and I cross them in the same night? Something was wrong in the world. Greeny McGee regained his strength quicker than I'd hoped, so I hadn't had time to either run, or decide any kind of strategy. I figured silver would kill this bitch dead about as much as his buddy. However, since I'd used The Winchesters' knife, I didn't actually have a weapon myself. Well isn't that fan-fuckin'-tastic.

Greeny threw another fist my way but I blocked it and kicked him (I'm assuming it's a he or this shouldn't have done much) in the go-nads. Bitchy move, I know, but what am I supposed to do sans weapon?

Anyway, the demon screamed like a girl, and clutched what I assumed was his ball sack. He fell to his knees and I took the opportunity to kick him under the chin. As expected, he flew backwards, thankfully into a wall.

And guess who then flew in to save the day? Why Captain Winchester of course! The hot one. Yay for me.

"Uh," he said. I don't think he was expecting what he saw. Which was, me, reasonably unharmed, (or here at all, really) and this demon, post-ass kicking. Yeah, I'm great, I know.

Wasting no time for wasting the demon, I spoke. "Got that knife on you?"

He quickly whipped it out – the knife, I mean! – and I grabbed it and shoved it into the demon's chest. Green goo poured out of the wound and from its mouth. It bubbled as he choked and spat, and eventually sputtered out his last breath. I was left with this body and steaming, sticky gobs of slime. Yeah, it was about as lovely as it sounds.

"Huh." I heard from behind me. Right, Dean. I turned.

"Did that happen with the last one?" I asked. Emerald – no more green! – eyes flashed to me.

"I... don't remember." His strangely perfect eyebrows drew together. But I can't blame him for being confused. I don't remember either. Curious.

"Alrighty then. Here's your knife. I'm gonna head home... if I can find my bike... Tell your brother he's a dick." I turned in the direction of what I thought was where I parked. I heard a chuckle as I started to trot off. Hark! And what a wonderful noise it was. God I'm such a weirdo. Eh.

I whirled around and grinned at the eldest Winchester as I walked backwards.

"You wanna tell him yourself? I find it's always fun to say it to his face."

I actually considered it. And agreed.

"You got anything to eat?" On that one and only condition.

Dean looked surprised. "Uh, I think we got a couple protein bars or something..." he trailed off. I, however, was completely dissatisfied. I told him as much.

"Well what do you want then? A burger?" He seemed exasperated. Why do I always have that affect on people? I guess its part of my feminine charm.

"Well yes, actually." And I did. Now that I think about it, I _really_ did. Bacon cheeseburger, to be exact. With onions and pickles and maybe some onion rings on the side... my mouth was practically watering just thinking about it. Wait, scratch 'practically'. It actually was. "And I know just the place...Oooh! And I remember where I parked! Huzzah!!!

I took off in a joyous skip. Not hearing footsteps following me, I twisted mid-stride.

"You comin' Burger Boy?"

His eyebrows (again, those sculpted brows were too perfect!) shot up at the nickname, but he smirked and followed nonetheless. He definitely thought he was getting lucky. 'Thought' being the operative word. But I wasn't letting up until he paid for my snack. I'm quite devious, don't you think?

We were gallivanting, well; _I_ was, through the streets towards my bike, when he started with the small talk.

"So, you from around here?"

"Around," I agreed, vaguely. I refused to answer directly until I got yummy beef in me. Uh, I mean a burger.

"You got any family in the area?" He was awful at this.

"Nope. And if you ask me about the weather next, you don't get to come on the burger run."

"Look, I'm sorry about Sam being such an ass before, but could you _try_ to quit being a bitch?"

"See now, _that's_ the way to a girl's heart. Call her a bitch." He opened his mouth to protest but I cut him off. "And this isn't about your brother. I just really want a burger. Badly."

"You do realize its like –"He checked his watch, "Three a.m. right?" I nodded. He shrugged. "Okay then. Where the hell did you park?"

"Here." We turned a corner and there it was. My beautiful bike, in all its black shiny glory.

"Whoa. Seriously?" Yeah that's the usual reaction.

"Yup."

He ran his hand over the handle bars. "What is she?" Ugh, I'm not one of those people who refer to their means of transportation in female terms, but I'll go along.

"She's a Ducati. My baby." I hopped on and grabbed my helmet. "Kay, let's go"

He took a step back. "Whoa. I'm not gonna ride on the back of your motorcycle and hold onto you like some school girl on her wanna-be-badass boyfriend's Harley. Nuh-uh. Not gonna happen."

I sighed."You ever ridden one of these before?" He shook his head reluctantly. "Kay. Listen, bud. You don't know how to ride, let alone _drive_ a bike. So unless you pull a motorcycle licence out of your ass – which is very nice, by the way – in the next 30 seconds, you'll swallow your ego, hop on the bike and shut the hell up. Clear?"

"Yes, Ma'am!" He seemed very pleased with himself. It might've been the butt comment. Well, we'll just have to fix that!

"You'll also have to wear my helmet." I smirked at his blanching face. Did I mention my helmet is one of those ones that looks like a bucket on your head? And that it was fluorescent yellow, painted to look like a duck? Yeah. It has a beak.

"No way in _hell_ am I wearin' that thing!" he shouted. Come on! It's not _that_ bad! There's no need to yell! I tried a different tactic.

I looked up at him through my lashes. "What if I told you, you'd be getting lucky tonight?" I purred.

Split seconds later he was on the back of my bike, beak hat buckled, and beaten down by a girl. What can I say? I'm good.

"Hang on!" I yelled over the roar of the engine and I felt him do just that as we sped outta there like a bat outta hell. Zoom zoom!

**Reeeeeview? I'll love you forever and ever and ever and ever...**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi everybody! (Hi Dr. Nick) What've you all been up to? I've been busy. School's never kicked my ass this hard. It's kinda ridiculous. So anyway, that's why I haven't updated in a while. But alas, here I am. I'd like to give special thanks to plmko55555 – you're AWESOME. My hero, in fact. Your reviews make me wanna update. So, without further adieu... **

**Chapter 4**

I parked outside my favourite diner in town, Shirley's. Quite the original name, I know. Be thankful it's not Flo's.

I was still on a riding rush as I jumped off my bike. Catching Dean grinning from ear-to-ear, I smiled. What a grin.

"You gonna keep that helmet on all night, or can we go inside?"

He took the stupid thing off and glared at its wee beady eyes.

"Oh, come on. You know you love it."

He snorted but didn't protest. I felt victory in the air.

"That was..." I don't think he could find a good enough word. I decided to help him out.

"Exhilarating? Terrifying? The best fucking thing you've ever experienced?" I supplied.

"Awesome, was what I was thinking, but yeah, that too." He grinned again and I laughed. "Man, if I weren't so devoted to _my_ baby, I'd consider getting me one of those."

"Yeah? What do you drive?" I'm a car nut in my own way. Don't know how the hell they're put together, but I love the speedy bastards.

"Impala, '67." He looked so proud; I couldn't bear to tell him I didn't know the model.

"A good year for cars," I stated. He seemed to accept this and beamed with pride for his beloved vehicle. "Rightio, let's eat!"

The diner was classic: red seats and roller-skates. It was almost too much. But not quite. I loved it.

I greeted the staff I knew and found a booth for Dean and me.

Our waitress was Annie- a pretty young blonde who I'll bet was just Dean's type.

"Hey, Kel. Who's your friend?" She purred.

"Dean, Annie. Annie, Dean." Annie leaned over the table at Dean, showing much more cleavage then necessary. He seemed far too pleased.

"Hey, stud." Annie's voice was velvety. Dean grinned seductively, but I caught his eyes flickering in my direction. Damn straight.

"Well hi there." He leaned towards her. Or, rather, her boobs. I leafed through my menu.

"What can I get you?"

"How 'bout a double cheeseburger, fries, and your phone number, sweetheart?" He was so smooth; it was damn-well ridiculous.

"Sure thing," she giggled. Without even a glance my way she said: "The usual, Kel?"

"Mmhm."

And with that she winked at Dean and flounced off. Perky.

"Wow!" Dean grinned at me.

"Wow, indeed," I agreed. Ha. Rhyme.

His brows drew together almost imperceptibly. "You're not, uh- jealous or anything, right?" He seemed to be fishing. The cocky bastard.

"Nope." The eyebrows got closer together.

"You're not?"

"Nope," I repeated.

"Huh. Well, alright."

Annie reappeared without food and – yup, a slip of paper with a phone number on it. My mind was drawn away when my bacon cheeseburger and frings – Frings!!! – were set in front of me. Ah, the deep fried arts.

When she was gone, Dean started again, just as I was about to take the first bite of my juicy... delicious... burger... Damn him.

"So, you're not jealous? At all?"

I sighed. "It's not like we're on a date, Dean." He nodded reluctantly, as if he wanted to disagree.

"Plus, she's engaged." I added nonchalantly.

He almost dropped his burger.

"Wha-?" I took his sputtering as a chance to snag a bite of my post-midnight snack.

"What? But the flirting, and the cleavage! The cleavage doesn't lie, Keller."

"No, but it does deceive. She flirts for tips. Needs 'em to pay for the wedding," I explained.

"And – the number?"

"Pizza place. Call it." He did. I was right. Duh.

"Huh. Well. She's clever, I'll give her that much." I bet that's not all he'd have given her. "Also, uh, sorry." Now I was confused.

"Heh?" That was about the most intelligible response I could give.

"I was... you know. With...yeah." I think he was blushing. Odd.

"Oh, yeah. You were trying to make me jealous." He was definitely blushing! "Don't worry. I'm sure it would've worked with a girl whose intentions I hadn't known." I patted his hand sympathetically.

That seemed to bring the smirk back to his face. I took a giant bite out of my burger. I groaned. It was so fucking _good_. "If you don't eat that, I will," I warned him through a mouthful of heaven. That got him moving, as any man whose meat has been threatened would.

* * *

So, as I'm sure you've noticed, these burgers were orgasmic. Dean agreed. I don't think any actual words were said throughout the duration of our meal. All we got out were a few unintelligible whimpers here and there. Beef has that effect on some people.

Once we'd finished our – amazing, delectable- meals, we sat and chatted a little bit. We'd decided that I should go tell Sam off for being such a bitch earlier, so I'd drop him off at the motel they were staying at, pop in, spread the news and head on home.

As we left the restaurant and walked into the cool night, I caught a glimpse of something shiny. I smiled slightly to myself, knowing just what it was. And I had a hunch that a certain chap behind me would not be able to ignore such a flashy object. I was right.

"Cool. A penny."

I didn't turn around as I said, "Told you you'd get lucky tonight." I walked towards the bike.

"Oh, _come on_!"

* * *

I made Dean wear the helmet again, and when we pulled up outside his room, I didn't remind him to take it off. Tee hee hee.

The second Dean turned the doorknob – shaped like a clam, by the way – the door was retched open from the other side.

There stood Sam in all his six-foot-huge glory. With his eyes burning and his hair so messed up, I had to guess he'd been frantically dragging his fingers through it for the last – however long Dean had been gone.

"Where the _fuck_ have you been, Dean? You go out to get a Coke _two hours ago_ and now you're – what the hell is on your head?!" Oh jeez. He sounded angry.

The less-pissed Winchester remembered the duck on his noggin, removed it and glared at me. I blinked innocently. He turned back to his brother.

"Sorry, Sammy. When I was at the machine, I heard screaming so, like the amazing guy I am, I ran over to help. Turns out Keller was beatin' the shit out of another green demon. Then she was hungry, so we got some burgers and now I'm back."

Sam was clenching and unclenching his gigantic fists. I think he might hit Dean. I took a step back.

Through gritted teeth, Sam growled, "And you couldn't have called?"

This appeared to be the first time the idea had crossed the shorter brother's mind. "Oh. Sorry. I was a little busy."

"Dean, I was worried sick about you!"

He rolled his eyes. "Okay, mom. Hey Kel, I don't think now's a good time for the plan." Plan? There was a plan?

"Uh. Right. I'll come back tomorrow, then." Once I figure out what exactly the plan was. Dean's eyes lit up and I grinned as I walked backwards to the door. I seem to be doing that a lot in the company of Dean Winchester. What can I say? Can't take my eyes off him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Heya. Newest instalment in **_**mon histoire**_**. How is everybody? And guess what guys- This chapter is the introduction to some HONEST TO GOODNESS PLOT! I know, it's very exciting. Actually, I kinda lied. It's more of an intro to an intro of plot. But I promise plot is coming soon. So, enjoy yourselves. And yet another thanks to plmko55555, my sole reviewer for the past few chapters. You make my day every time I get your reviews. As for the rest of you, perhaps you should follow such example? Hint **_**HINT**_**. :D**

Chapter 5

Sam was pissed.

His brother – the fucking _moron_ – had been out all night, doing god knows what, with this Keller girl. No notice, no phone call, he just went out to get a Coke and never came back! He realized that he sounded like an overprotective mother, but goddammit Dean should've _called_.

"Dean, I can't believe you! Since when do you just up and leave without telling me? I thought you were dead!" Sam fumed. Dean poked his head out of the bathroom to glare at his brother. The effect was ruined by the toothbrush hanging out of his mouth.

"Seriously, Sammy, relax! And I did tell you. It's your own fault for not getting me a Coke when I asked," he stated with a mouthful of toothpaste.

Sam scoffed. "You said you were going to the machine for your damn drink. Then you just disappeared! I went looking for you and I found all this blood and green goo in the street and I thought... "

"You thought one of those _Buffy_ costume rejects offed me? Please. Keller can kill those things, and she's not even a hunter!"

"And there's Keller again! You mention her in practically every sentence!"

Dean rolled his eyes. This again. "Uh, what'd I just say about it being your fault?"

"Come on, Dean. You and I both know there's something up with this girl –"

"I don't know that," he interrupted.

" – You haven't talked about a girl this much since – since _Cassie_. And even then, it wasn't like this."

Dean's expression hardened at the thought of his former lover. Love being the operative part of the word. His first and only love. Ever. And look how that turned out. She couldn't handle the demon stuff.Freaked out, called him crazy. And that's the general reaction to finding out what he does. Go nuts and kick him to the curb. How could love ever work out for him if any woman he came across would have that reaction?_ But Keller already knows ,_he thought. _She wouldn't run, or call you nuts. She knows everything. _Hold on. Why was he thinking about Keller and love? Or, even, loving Keller? No, no. Keller's not someone he could love. Hell, he couldn't love someone if he _tried_. Keller's just another one of the girls he's gonna fuck and forget. Oddly enough, the thought caused pangs to hit him in the one part of his body he never seemed to use – his heart.

Shaking his head at his ridiculous, melodramatic musings, he collapsed on his bed, ignoring Sam's assertion that they'd continue this conversation in the morning.

Tonight, his thoughts before bed had nothing to do with demons, or what needed to be touched up on the Impala, or even about protecting Sam. Tonight, his mind wandered back to a pair of spectacular purple eyes that he then realized he couldn't get his mind _off_ of. As he drifted into sleep he thought, _maybe Sam was right..._

* * *

"Mrrf," I grumbled. I hate waking up. Worst part of the day, I swear. I could feel the sun on my face and an annoyingly familiar weight on my chest, but I kept my eyes screwed shut. Hoping that if I just keep them closed I can just go back to sleep and be left in peace. Of course, he was having none of that. A furry paw batted my face. Sighing internally, I opened my eyes to glare at the little bastard.

Jethro sat on my chest with his paws on my throat. My glare became more and more menacing until said paws were removed. Purple orbs that matched my own glared back. We kept up the staring contest for a while, until I got even more annoyed and turned to my left, dumping the rascal onto the bed beside me.

"Mew." Oh, he _would_ sound all innocent and adorable.

"Alright, I'm up. You've gotten what you wanted now get the hell out." He made no move to leave, just snuggled up against me and purred. "Jeth, honey, get out," I tried to persuade, nicely. His purr rumbled through me as he nuzzled my tummy. I sighed in defeat. This was not going to end in my favour. I might as well just cave right now. Well played, kitty. You've won this round.

I scratched behind his ears and he reciprocated this show of affection by flopping over in a movement so ungraceful, I couldn't help but giggle at his antics.

Jethro was no ordinary kitty. The eyes kinda hinted at that, but there was a very long, complicated and fairly amusing back story as to how this kitty came to be here with me, but I won't get into that right now.

Somehow, during our little love fest, Jethro ended up lying on my stomach again. Of course, my stomach just had to be difficult and rumble with hunger, scaring the living daylights out of poor Jethro, causing him to flip off the bed. I couldn't help but laugh.

"Come on, let's go get some breakfast." I rolled out of bed and walked in the direction of the kitchen. I heard my kitty scamper on past me, and I was sure that when I got to my destination, he'd be sitting on the table, as always.

I flipped on the radio, already tuned to my favourite classic rock station and jammed along with Sweet Emotion while I made waffles. Dancing and singing into a whisk is one of my favourite past times. Even Jethro joined in on the fun and blinked along to the music. Well, you can't really expect much out of a cat.

Halfway through Cool Whip covered waffle-y goodness, the doorbell rang. I ran to the door with a waffle in my hand, and flung it open to see –

"Oh hey, Steve!" Steve! He's the UPS guy. We're old friends. And by that I mean he gets to deliver my books when I order them online about 9 at a time. We exchange Christmas cards.

"Mornin', Miss Keller. Nice P.j's. Got some more books here for ya! You go through these by the dozen, darlin'!" His Southern drawl has always been quite entertaining for me. On many occasions, I've found myself purposely making him repeat things as if I hadn't heard him the first time. An entertaining pastime with any accent.

"Yeah, well what can I say? I need a life."

He smiled at me. "Aw. C'mon now. You've got a perfectly good social life! And hey, check this out! You're such a valued customer, you got a free gift!" He held out a tiny cardboard box, which I promptly tore open. Pulling out its contents, I squealed in excitement.

"Laser pointer! I love these things! Steve you just made my day!" I hugged him and then jumped up and down. I'm getting far too much excitement out of this little gadget.

Steve chuckled at my enthusiasm. "Thought you might like that. Now I got some other deliveries to make, so if you could just sign here, I'll be outta yer hair!"

I signed and thanked him again. Shutting the door, I started up my laser pointer and the little red dot appeared on the wall. I waved it around with unrepressed glee. I then realized I was holding a laser pointer in one hand, and a waffle in the other. Life is good.

After finishing up my waffles and cleaning the kitchen, I began playing with my laser pointer again. It was skirting around the room against the walls when Jethro leapt and tried to catch it. This resulted in him jumping into the wall and falling down to the floor. I think I've figured out how to spend my day. So Jethro was running around falling all over himself after my lovely laser and then BOOM! I remembered. Lasers... falling all over himself... The Winchesters! I had to go see them, and soon, 'cause if I know hunters – which I don't – they'll probably be taking off early now that their job has been done. Thanks to moi.

So, I got dressed – worn jeans and a Metallica T-shirt – slapped on a little make up, grabbed my laser pointer, and I was off!

As I was riding my bike, I was singing the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles theme song in my head, and trying to remember which motel the boys were staying at. Then I remembered the shell door knob and headed in the direction of the cheesiest one. _Then_ I remembered that I didn't know which room they were in. So I knocked on every one.

I found them 11 pissed off motel-inhabitors later, in room 304. I don't really understand the number, cause there are no levels and there definitely aren't over 300 rooms here. I let it go.

Sammy opened the door. He looked tousled and unpleasant. I grinned at him.

"Mornin', Papa Bear! Is Goldilocks home?" I tried to be as chipper as possible. He looked quite displeased. It was very fulfilling, ruining an asshole's day with just your presence.

He grumbled something indistinguishable and let me in. I stood just inside the door and looked around. There were fishies on the walls. I loved it. Dean was still asleep on one of the beds and Mr. Grumps stomped into the bathroom and slammed the door. I heard the shower turn on. Sufficiently bored, I decided to wake up my preferred Winchester boy. This should be fun.

I lay down next to him in the bed and started poking him in the side. With every poke he twitched a little bit but didn't wake up. Seeing that this tactic was not working, I tried another. I hovered above him and blew in his face. He swatted himself. While this was amusing, it was not waking him up. So I started calling his name.

"Dean. Deeeeeeeeeeeean. _Dean!_ Wake up! Wakeupwakeupwakeupwakeupwake_up!" _Jesus Christ this guy was harder to wake than a vampire in the middle of the day. Not that I've tried. "Alright Dean, you've left me no choice." To make sure I wouldn't get my ass kicked when he woke up, I snuggled into his side and was quite surprised when he responded and shifted his arm around me. I looked at him, checking, but he was still asleep. Alrighty then, here it goes. I put my finger in my mouth and stuck it in his ear.

The reaction was immediate and _hilarious_. He jolted awake with a squack and started flailing about. Then he noticed me and nearly flipped off the bed. The bed shook with my laughter. Forget about the laser pointer, _that_ just made my day.

When he caught his breath, he turned incredulous eyes my way. I tried my best to smother my giggles and look innocent.

"Jesus _fuck_, Keller! What the hell was that for?!" I looked up at him sweetly.

"You wouldn't wake up!" I explained. He glared at me. I widened my eyes innocently.

"What are you doing here, anyway? And why are you in my bed?" He seemed more interested in the latter question, which is why I chose to ignore it.

"I told you I'd come by today. By the way," I lowered my voice, secretively, and whispered, "what exactly was 'the plan'?"

He drew his eyebrows together in confusion. Aha! He didn't know either! I do believe I'm off the hook. But then he had to go and _remember_ and ruin everything for me. I managed to refrain from pouting.

"Oh yeah, you were gonna tell Sammy off for bein' a heartless jerk at the bar." Oh right! The bum chum.

"Ooh, ooh! Instead of telling him off, can I do a prank? Will he kill me? Hide the guns, okay?" I started to get up, but I had a bit of trouble considering the arm around me. This seemed to remind Dean that I was in his bed and hadn't answered why.

I managed to escape before he could form a proper sentence and snuck into the bathroom. The sound of the water was much louder in here, and I could hear Sam humming what sounded suspiciously like 'See You Again' by Miley Cyrus. Dear _lord_. I don't know if I'll be able to hold in my giggles. I approached the toilet slowly, and when I was in perfect escape range, I did it.

I flushed.

Dashing out of the bathroom, the awful music turned to screams and I ran and collapsed on Dean's bed next to him. I was nearly peeing myself laughing. Dean was laughing pretty hard himself.

"I can't _wait_ to see his face!" He choked out. Picturing the expression that I'd be encountering in a few moments set off another wave of hysterics between Dean and I. And then the water shut off. My laughs died down to chuckles, which turned to giggles. And then the giggles subsided all together when Sam walked out of the bathroom in a towel, with the most murderous expression I've seen since I ate my mom's prize flowers in the second grade.

Ruh roh.

**Soooo, What'd ya think? Feel free to answer IN A REVIEW. :D**


	6. Chapter 6

**HEY! I'm a little over enthusiastic. I have a cold and I'm all hyped up on Dayquil and whatnot. Very exciting. So... Here's the new chapter.... lemme know how you like it...perhaps in the form of a **_**review**_**...I mean, I feel like the only reviews I'm getting are from plmko55555. And despite the fact that I **_**love**_** this person dearly, it's kinda true. Therefore, review. Please?**

Chapter 6

"Who. The _fuck_. Did that." Sam's tone was clipped, with completely unconcealed rage. Muscles in his face were twitching, his eyes were stone cold. All in all, I'm glad Dean hid the guns.

Dean stood up and I followed suit, hiding behind him. I peeked my head out above his shoulder and sheepishly raised my hand. Sam bounded over in less than 3 steps and grabbed me out from behind Dean, a very tight grip on my arm.

"What is your _problem_?" he growled. His grip tightened.

"Let go of me, Sammy – " I tried, calmly. He jerked me closer and I admit I flailed a bit.

"_Don't_, call me Sammy." Oh boy. This is not going as planned. Thankfully my Dean in shining PJ's came to my rescue once again.

"Sam," he said sternly, his voice dripping with authority. "Let her go." Sam's head snapped up to meet his brother's laser-eyed gaze and then his face twitched a little more and he let me go sharply. We had a bit of a staring match; him, glaring with all his might, me, holding my ground. We looked away at the same time. Then he stomped out of the motel and slammed the door, still wearing a towel, might I add.

I broke the silence. "That went well."

Dean closed his eyes and shook his head. "I can't believe him. It was a harmless prank. Is your arm okay?" Aw, what a cutie, takin' my side, checking if I'm alright.

"Yeah. May bruise but I'll be fine." I smiled softly at him. He smiled sheepishly back. I sat on the bed.

"I guess I should've stopped you. He really doesn't like you."

"Oh yeah? Didn't notice. What's his problem with me anyway?"

"Well he thinks you've got me under a spell or something," he answered, shaking his head in disbelief.

Considering I'd had the same thought about Dean, I figured I'd managed to intrigue him as much as he had me. Interesting.

He lay down on the bed with his hands behind his head. "Hm, and why does he think that?"

"Mmm, I've been talking a lot about – "he stopped himself. Hmm... suspicious. Yes, very suspicious indeed. "About those demons you killed. Nice job, though I'm sure if _you_ killed 'em, anybody could've." Of all the nerve!

"Now you just hang on one cotton pickin' minute! Those demons were not all that easy to kill! I mean, for most of the fight, I didn't even have a weapon! I was doin' pretty damn well! And just cause I'm not a hunter doesn't mean I can't kick ass! In fact, I could kick _your_ ass so hard you'd be shitting boots!" I was fuming. Dean seemed like a guy I could actually have fun with and then he goes macho shit man on me and I am _pissed!_

He smirked at me. "You done?" I nodded. "Good, 'cause I was joking."

I looked at him. "Oh."

"Yeah."

"Alright then." And I settled back onto the bed and put my head on his chest. What? He's comfy.

I could tell he was internally freaking out by my shamelessness. I felt a bit smug, but decided I could be smugger. I put my hand on his stomach. Did I mention he was shirtless? Yeah. And did I mention, _yum_?

"So," he started uncomfortably. This seemed like it was going to be amusing, also. "I can't help but notice you're in my bed... again." Oh, he's smug now. There goes my fun. We smug people are quite a handful.

"Yep. Can't resist you. Sorry." I grinned against his chest. Let's see how he takes _that_.

"Oh that's nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart. S' only natural," he purred. Oh isn't he just _smooth_.

"Mmm, yeah. I might as well give in right now. Take me, Dean! Take me now!" I cried dramatically, flinging my arms in the air. I wonder how seriously he'd take that.

"Okay, seriously. Any particular reason you were in my bed, giving me a wet willy this morning?" He was looking at me, so I suppose I should look back up at him.

"Told you, was wakin' you up. Are you aware that it takes a finger getting shoved in your ear to get you out of bed? I mean, that's worse than me! Put a cat on my face and I'm up!" I recalled this morning's wake-up call. Good times.

"Yeah, but why were you _in my bed_?" he pushed.

"You have a problem with me being in your bed? I thought you might've enjoyed that part," I smiled coyly at him. He smirked back but pressed on. I sighed. "Really, I thought you might not kill me if I showed up in bed with you," I grinned goofily at him. "I wasn't exactly expecting a reaction like the one from Sasquatch McGee, but I didn't think you'd giggle and move on with your life."

He nodded. "Alright makes sense. So why have you been back here twice since then, huh?" He teased, returning my goofy grin.

I rolled my eyes dramatically. "I _told_ you! I just can't stay away, baby!" I punctuated this with a sloppy kiss on the cheek. Now, this is what I look back on and think of as a 'What Was I Thinking' moment.

Dean's head jerked in my direction, looking at me with a really intense expression. Mraaah not good. Why? Why do I do these things? Do I have some sort of _condition_ that makes these ideas pop into my brain and then not give me the strength to rein them in?

So this, passionate moment of gaze locking went on for quite some time, and let me tell you, it was uncomfortable. But, pass it did, and for that I was grateful. I sat up and scratched my nose. What? I was nervous!

I cleared my throat, "So, when are you guys headin' outta town?" I asked casually.

"We were gonna grab some lunch and then take off." Well that's a little unfortunate. I realize that he was gonna have to leave, but I wish we could've had more time to hang out and stuff. What is going on here? When exactly did I start wanting to keep The Winchesters in town? And _why_?

"Oh. Well. It was uh nice to uh – meet you guys. I feel kinda bad about the whole situation with Sammy – Sorry, _Sam_. But really, what can I do now. I'm just gonna go home and... stop rambling. Bye!" I headed towards the door and forced myself to turn my back to Dean and _walk away like a normal person. _When did I become such a freak? Why can't I just leave? They're just hunters, and I knew they were gonna leave today any way. Let 'em go, Kel! Quit bein' peculiar!

But of course I can never take any one's advice – or god forbid my _own_! – and I whipped around to face Dean and said:

"Maybe you want to – " Just at the same time he said –

"Hey Keller, wait – "

We both stopped. I gestured for him to go first but he insisted.

"I was uh – gonna invite you guys over for lunch. You know, make it up to your brother and stuff. I can never seem to leave things on a bad note, you know?" I cut off my speech before it could get to a full-blown ramble.

Dean looked surprised. Shocked even. "You wanna... make us lunch?" I nodded slowly. "Well I can't turn down free food. I'll go find Sammy." And he left. Uh, alright then.

* * *

He found Sam sitting in the Impala.

Not only was he sitting in the car, he was also muttering to himself. And he was wearing a towel.

Dean opened the door.

"What are you doing?"

Sam's head shot up. Dean saw he was still mad, but had lost the murderous expression he'd been sporting back in the motel room. He was suddenly very glad he'd let Sam go.

"Waiting for you. Are you ready to go? We need to move on to the next job." Sam's tone was brisk and deliberate. Dean kept his tone neutral so he wouldn't freak out at him, though that kind of seemed inevitable.

"Yeah, Keller wants to apologize to you by making us lunch. We'll go right after that, I promise."

Sam's gaze narrowed considerably. "She's gonna cook for us?"

"Yeah, that's what I said."

Sam didn't really want to. No, scratch that, he did _not_ want to _at all_.

"No, Dean."

"Come on Sammy. Give her a chance. She's not that bad."

"You only say that cause you loooove her." Dean stared at his brother.

"Are you drunk?" And, yup, there was the bottle of Jack Daniels. "God, Sam it's like 11 a.m.!"

"Yeah. So?" He said defiantly.

"Oh God , you're gonna call me names again, aren't you?" Dean complained. Sam giggled. "Alright, since you're not in your right mind, you don't get to protest. We're going to Keller's."

And Dean went back inside to let Keller know they were coming, grab Sam some pants, and check out.

* * *

I told Dean to follow me in the Impala back to my place. I'm still a little shocked that Sam agreed to this. Actually, I'm still shocked I _suggested_ this. It's quite out of character for me. No one's been inside other than myself since... I can't remember the last time someone was in my house. Is that as pathetic as I think it is?

I wonder how Jethro will react to people who aren't me being in the house. Okay, now _this_ is pathetic, wondering how my cat will feel about me having company. I'm gonna need to get a life sooner or later, no matter what my UPS guy says.

So, I pulled up at my abode and hopped off my bike. I heard more than saw Dean's car pull into the driveway. I can see why he loves the thing so much. It's perty.

As I ushered them to the door, I noticed Sam was acting quite peculiar. He seemed to be having a bit of trouble walking; stumbling and swaying with each step. And he kept _giggling_. I decided that Sam 'the Yetti' Winchester was completely and undeniably drunk. He was a really funny drunk too. Also... very gassy. I can't – and don't want to – imagine what it was like for poor Dean being trapped in a car with him.

I giggled to myself as Sam made a knock-knock joke and fumbled to open my front door.

Here we go.

**Voila!!! Review please.**


	7. Chapter 7

***Sheepish* Hi.... Let me just say I'm soooo sorry for the ridiculously long pause between updates here. I know, I suck but alas, here is a new chapter. A very funny one if you ask me, but I might be a little biased. Anyway, it's another fluff filled useless bunch of paragraphs but get this: NEXT CHAPTER IS HONEST TO GOD PLOT! I know, I know, I've been saying that for weeks but I'm serious this time guys- PLOT. Enjoy!**

Chapter 7

So, I lead the boys into the living room with the instructions to make themselves at home. Sam took advantage of this and flopped onto the couch and promptly fell asleep. Well alright then.

I headed into the kitchen and rummaged through the fridge in search of something to make for lunch. "Roast beef sandwiches okay?" I called out to Dean.

"Hell yeah!" I smiled. I could tell the boys hadn't had a home cooked meal in ages. I imagine that happened when you live in a different motel room every week.

I set out to fix the sandwiches and flipped on the radio, and danced along. Then I heard Dean make a really strange noise. I think he found _the room_. I went out to check and, yup, he was in the room. I came in and leaned on the door frame.

"No. Fucking. _Way_."

I grinned.

"You rock, too? Are you aware of how awesome you are?" I am actually, but I laughed in response.

I looked around the room and could tell where Dean's awe was coming from. It was a bit much.

This was my music room. I own a ridiculous amount of instruments but I only really play the drums. Yup, I pound the skins like there's no tomorrow, or at least I like to think so. So, what we've got in here, is my drum kit, a shiny red number with a few too many cymbals, and then there's the bass and guitar on the walls, and my Marshall stack beside it. There was a keyboard on the other side of the room. Okay, I admit it's a bit much, but really, this what you're used to when your dad owns a recording studio. I told Dean this to ease his awe. It kind of backfired and my revelation increased said awe.

"You're kidding! But – uh... isn't your dad..."

"Dead? Yeah." I didn't elaborate. Did he need to know I'd inherited the business? I didn't think so.

Luckily he left it at that. "So which do you play?"

"Drums mostly." He seemed quite pleased. I don't know why. "You play anything?"

He shook his head. "Not really. I played the guitar once or twice, but I sucked ass."

"I'm sure you can't be that bad. Pick it up, try it out. I'll bet you're just being modest, though that does seem a bit out of character."

"No, seriously Keller, I'm not good," he insisted.

"Come on! Play something for me!" I pleaded. He gave in. Score- Keller: 2, Winchesters: 0.

"Alright, but you better not laugh." He picked up the Les Paul and started playing the opening riff to Smoke on the Water. I could barely contain my giggles, but determined not to break my promise, I maintained.

"Keep playing, keep playing!" And I ran behind the drums and picked up the sticks, playing the rhythm out on the hi-hats. I can't believe I'm playing Deep Purple songs with Dean Winchester. It seems utterly ridiculous. But I'll go with it. I was actually having fun.

We _nailed_ the ending and I grinned at him, he grinned back.

"You're not _that_ bad!" I yelled, going around the drums to stand next to him. Well, he wasn't _horrible_. I'm not completely lying.

"What?" he joked. I slapped his arm and laughed.

"That was fun. I gotta go make lunch." And so I skipped out of the room. When I closed the door, I heard him fumbling through Enter Sandman.

Getting back into cooking mode, I continued to whip up the sandwiches. The song on the radio was one I didn't like so I changed the channel. And found one of my favourite songs. Now, let me tell you a story. Whenever I hear this song, I cannot be held responsible for my actions. I must dance. And sing along. It's not always a good thing.

Since I was groovin' along with Fountains of Wayne, I didn't hear the other music in the house shut off, or the footsteps leading to the kitchen. But I whirled around when I heard a chuckle, only to see Dean leaning against the doorframe, with his arms crossed and a big smile on his face. I continued with my concert.

"_And I know that you think it's just a fantasy, but since your dad walked out, your mom could use a guy like me_!" Dean's smile grew into a smirk as I belted out the words to Stacy's Mom. Well we'll just have to fix that now won't we?

As I sang the chorus I danced over to his and pulled him farther into the kitchen and grabbed his arms, forcing him to dance. His smirk dropped into an expression of pure horror. I could tell he didn't much like to dance.

He tried to protest, but I continued to dance around him, waving my dish towel in the air, singing like a crazy person. I have way too much fun with these types of things. Trying to entice him, I put the dish towel around his neck and carried on. Aha! It worked. He is intrigued by my feminine charms. We moved together around my kitchen, dancing and singing like maniacs, me belting out the melody, Dean singing the echo. We were almost at the end of the song, unfortunately, and I was having quite a bit of fun, and I just _knew_ Dean was too. I pulled him closer and sang the last lines.

"_I know it might be wrong, but I'm in love with Stacy's mom_."

We kinda just stood there for a few moments, as the DJ announced a commercial break, with a promise that there'd be more tunes in two minutes. I suddenly noticed how close Dean and I were. Then I noticed how much like a shitty teen movie scene this was. I was disappointed in myself, but couldn't make my body move.

Of course, we were interrupted by the only man in my life – other than Steve – jumping onto Dean's head. He screamed, I screamed, it was a loud moment.

"Jethro! Get off!" The cat hissed and latched onto Dean's shoulders. I manoeuvred around Deans flailing limbs and Jeth's angry tail to pry him off of the poor Winchester.

Jethro scrambled in my arms and I shooed him in the direction of the living room. I glanced at Dean to see the damage.

Shit. He had big bloody scratches on his forehead and neck, and he seemed to be in shock. It's not every day a big black ball of fur jumps on your noggin and rips open your face. I ran to get a first aid kit.

"Shit, Dean I'm so sorry. He doesn't usually do that! Crazy motherfucker. He's sleeping on the couch tonight, let me tell ya." I rambled as I cleaned the cut on his forehead. He'll also be getting quite the talking to.

"Jesus." Was all he could seem to muster.

"Bet you wish you were wearing my helmet, huh?" I joked weakly. He seemed to recover.

"God, I'll never wish _that_. No matter what flies at my head and tries to rip my throat out. What the fuck is wrong with your damn cat?"

"I don't know, he just lost his mind for a second! He's only ever done that to – oh. Steve." Ah, I get it now.

"Steve? That your boyfriend, or something?" He asked frostily. Jea – _lous_.

"No, Steve's the UPS guy."

He blinked and looked confused.

"Uh. Okay. Does he attack the UPS guy often? Or only when he's got a box of catnip?"

"No, just about every time he's here. Not this morning though." I thought about this morning, recalling no attack. I wonder what Jethro was doing. Then I remembered my laser pointer. "Hey, I got a free laser pointer! It's really quite amusing, wanna see?"

He stared incredulously. "You sound like a five year old." I purposefully poked his cut. "Owww!" He whined.

"Who's the five year old now?!"

He winced. "Touché." I grinned in victory. Once I finished bandaging him, I remembered the sandwiches again.

"I can't keep forgetting about these damn sandwiches. Go wake up your drunken brother, I'll get him some Advil."

By the time The Winchesters entered my kitchen together – Dean smirking and Sam clutching his head – the sandwiches were finally done and set on the table. I handed Sam some Advil and got Dean a beer and Sam some Coke. Hangover cure. Come to think of it, he sobered up pretty fast. Very odd.

Sam seemed disgusted but grateful. Good. I think I'm well on my way to making things alright. I believe the sandwich will cure that right up.

"Dig in, guys." They did, and I joined them.

**Okidokie, you know what to do!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Is there anybody still out there? *Ducks and hides* I'M BACK! I am so sorry this chapter took so freakin' long, there was some ridiculous writer's block, asses were kicked by school, and other such excuses, but the important thing is, that this chapter is finally up! If anyone is actually still with me here, I'd like to thank you for stickin' with my story, and putting up with the useless, humor/fluff, cause IT IS ABOUT TO GET INTERESTING IN HERE! Special shout out to my buddy plmko55555 who prompts me to actually write things, and GUESS WHAT?! This chapter is especially long, just to make up for my neglect of this poor poor story. Alright kids, HAVE AT IT!**

"Dig in, guys." They did, I joined them.

Now this experience was not unlike last night, when Dean and I grabbed our burgers and no words were spoken throughout the duration of the meal. In fact, it was exactly like that.

When we were finished, we all sat back in our chairs and sighed in contentment.

"That was the best sandwich I've had since the Djinn flew me over the rainbow." I didn't know if Dean was referencing an actual event in his life, or some kind of acid trip, but I took it as a complement. Sam nodded in agreement.

Just then Jethro strolled into the room, commanding attention the way only cats and celebrities can. Dean seemed to tense up and I felt a little worried, but my kitty just walked right on over to Sam and started rubbing up against his legs, purring. Heh?

Clearly Jethro didn't see Sam as a threat to his position as Only Male In Keller's Life, so he decided to grace Sam with the opportunity to touch him. He did, however, turn to Dean and hiss. Dean jumped back, and my cat closed his eyes in pleasure as Sam scratched behind his ears.

"Cute cat," he remarked. Then Jethro opened his eyes and peered up at Sam with his creepily coherent gaze and the tall Winchester drew back his hand as if he'd been bitten. Sam and the black fur ball had a staring contest going, until Jethro withdrew his gaze and blinked lazily, glaring directly at Dean, before striding out.

"Keller, your cat hates me."

"Yeah, he really does," I agreed.

"Alright, well we'd better get going. Thanks for the sandwiches. I'm sorry I freaked out at you this morning, I really overreacted. I hope things can be good between us. C'mon Dean, let's hit the road." It's possible Sam said this all is one breath. I'm surprised I could even make out the long string of words.

"Woah woah woah, Sammy. Relax! We just got here! No need to dine and dash," Dean protested. Sam was wearing a very uneasy expression. I blame the cat. Curse you, purple eyes! Oh wait... heh. Nevermind.

"Yeah really, man. I feed you – and I have to say it was pretty fantastic – and then you take off two seconds after? Why does this sound like the story of how I lost my virginity?" I complained and Dean shot me a quick glance that I don't think I was supposed to quite catch but I did! Cause I'm perceptive like that. Wait what's Sam saying?

" – sorry Keller. I really think we should be hitting the road. I think I saw a job in the paper this morning." Sam said hastily. Hmm.. suspicious. Well, actually it's pretty darn clear that Sammy boy wants to get the hell outta here. Shall I make it difficult for him? _Well,_ my subconscious answered, _does a bear shit in the woods?_ Alright then. You heard my subconscious. And how eloquent a response was that, huh?

"But Sammy – " I faintly heard a mumble that sound like 'it's Sam' but carried right on. " – you guys didn't get dessert yet!" Of course I don't actually have anything for dessert, but he doesn't know that.

"Dessert! Oh Sammy, we're stayin' for dessert." I knew I could count on Dean.

"But – "

"Oh. I get it." I started wearily. "You don't have time for a measly civilian like me. I totally get it, don't even worry about it. I'll just..." I slumped in my seat, "hang here."

I could tell Dean was giving Sam that authoritative stare down thing that I've seen him do a couple of times already. _Excellent_, my inner Mr. Burns cooed. I could tell Dean was wearing him down, but just for the hell of it, I heaved a big sigh and looked dejected.

"Alright. Fine. What's for dessert, then?" Sam sounded irritated but resigned. Victory! I was doing a mental dance of joy when the phone rang. I sprang up from my seat and spun to the other side of the kitchen where the phone was hanging on the wall. I was a little dizzy as I answered.

" 'Lo?"

"Kel?" a vaguely familiar voice answered over a crackly phone line.

"Yeah?"

"It's Jamie." Oh! It _was_ Jamie.

"Hiya." I was met with more crackling. "Jesus, where the hell are you?"

"It's this damn cell phone. Piece of shit costs more than it's worth," he replied. Ah. 'Nuff said. "Anyway, I think I found somebody who can help with your problem." My heart skipped a beat.

"No shit?" I gasped out once I regained the ability to speak.

"No shit," he answered.

"When and where?"

He rattled off an address in some town in Nebraska with instructions to meet there in about 7 hours. I think I can make that. I hung up with a glimmer of hope in my mind. Please god, be helpful this time.

"So..." At the sound of Dean's voice I quickly twirled around to face the boys again. "Pie?" He looked so hopeful; I almost couldn't bear to squash his dreams.

"Sorry, gotta take a rain check on that dessert. Need to get outta town." I started towards the closet where I keep my duffel bag. I didn't know how long this trip was going to last, so I might as well be prepared. I fluttered around the room picking up items I might need for the trip and stuffing them in my bag.

"Wait, what?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, no pie?" Of course Dean was much more concerned about the pie. Wait, I never said pie.

"I don't think I ever mentioned pie. You must be mistaken." I grinned teasingly at him for a second then continued my search for my wallet.

"You're leaving town?" Sam questioned. He sounded very... suspicious.

"Yeah, I just... there's something I need to check out."

"Where?"

"Nebraska."

Dean's eyebrows shot up. "What the hell is in Nebraska that you need to jump up and leave like this? I mean, come on, it's Nebraska."

"It's personal. So, once I find my wallet, I gotta take off." I let out a noise of triumph as I pulled my wallet out from between the sofa cushions. Turning to look at the boys, I tried to put on a cheery smile over my frantic expression. "So. I guess this is goodbye, huh?" As great as getting out of here sounds right now, saying goodbye isn't nearly as appealing.

Apparently Dean agreed. "Does it have to be?" Dean questioned.

"What do you mean?"

"Yeah Dean, what _do_ you mean?" Sam didn't seem all too pleased that this might not be goodbye. _Well, I'll miss you too, buddy,_ I internally grumbled.

"Well, I dunno, you seem like you got something big goin' down in Nebraska. You say it's personal. But anything that's makin' you skip town like this's gotta be important, so I was thinkin' maybe you'd uh," he scratched his neck and turned his eyes downcast, "want us to, uh, come with you. You know. Moral support."

Well isn't he just adorable. _Can I keep him, ma? Pretty please_?! Sam was full-out glaring at his brother now, probably willing the words he'd just uttered to be retracted into his mouth. And despite the sweetness of his delightful offer, I sadly cannot accept. I told him as much.

"Ya see, that's sweet, and that'd be great, but you can't. There's some...erm... I don't wanna say _secret_, happenings that are... happening, and you guys just can't really tag along." That got Sam's attention. He did already seem suspicious of me for whatever reason, and my 'secret happenings' clearly didn't help in his trusting me. Go figure.

"Actually, Keller, Dean's right, it sounds like you really could use some backup on this." His voice was so even and controlled, it was obvious his intentions weren't to provide me with moral support. Jerk.

Dean shot his brother a dumbfounded glance but decided that since the taller Winchester was agreeing with him, he'd go along with his weirdness. "See Kel? We're here for ya, so how's about the three of us hop in the Impala, and head down to Nebraska and kick this problem's ass?"

Such an enthusiastic boy, it's too bad he's gonna be let down. "Dean. Seriously. You're not coming." I had to find a way to convince him to let me leave alone. Now I haven't known these Winchester boys for long, but I'm pretty perceptive, if I do say so myself. In my short time with them, I have deduced that they both – wait for it! – have daddy issues! Oh yes, I said it. I know it's a low blow but this is something that I'm going to have to take advantage of. I heaved a dramatic sigh and felt my eyes well up with tears. I looked up at Dean with my most heartbroken face and did one of the things I do best, lied. "It's about... it's about my dad. They found some of his stuff in an old locker in Nebraska and I have to go clean it out." I heaved a small sob and looked away. "It's been a while since I had to... you know, but it still – it still _hurts_. And I just have to do this on my own."

I continued my pseudo-sobbing for a few moments before I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up. I was shocked to see that it was actually Sam who had made the move to comfort me in this 'time of need'. His eyes had softened and he actually looked, dare I say it, sympathetic!

"It's alright Keller, we get it. We... lost our dad too. We... well we kind of know how it is. We understand why it is you have to do this alone. Right, Dean?" He emphasized the last bit, not giving Dean the chance to disagree.

"Yeah... I, uh, yeah. Do what you gotta do, Kel. Maybe give us a call when you get back though? We can grab some more burgers at three a.m. again."

By now my fake tears had started to dry up, and I nodded slowly. I felt pretty bad about manipulating the brothers' feelings so callously, but I really needed to get out of here – _alone_.

"Thanks guys. I'll definitely call you. Right now though, I gotta go. Get this thing over with, you know?"

We exchanged numbers and I finished packing my bag with clothes and other necessities. The boys didn't notice when I snuck in a few knives and a hand gun. Clearly, I'm the only perceptive one around here.

All crowded around my doorway, we said our goodbyes. Awkward pats on the back ensued between Sam and I and Dean gave me a bear hug, then the boys strolled out, down the drive way and they hopped into their shiny, black contraption of transportation. Dean backed out and gave me a final wave, and then they were gone.

I called Jethro over and debated methods of travelling long distances with a cat via motorcycle. I really couldn't think of one. I dropped my shoulders in defeat and schlepped my way to the garage. I reluctantly piled all my crap (cat included) into the ridiculous yellow and black Camero. I hated driving this car. _Hated_ it.

Finally I was ready to go, and I started up the engine and shot out onto the road, on my way to Nebraska – hopefully the place I'd finally get my answers.

* * *

Sam and Dean sat in the Impala around the corner. Having been waiting to see a girl and a cat strapped onto a motorcycle fly by, they were shocked to see the same two characters in... Yes, the car from the _Transformers_ movie.

"Dean," the younger of the two broke the silence, "She doesn't want us around for this. Would you want some strangers to come with you to sort through Dad's old shit? I mean, come on, it's _personal_." His attempt to persuade his brother was void, as Dean continued to follow the yellow beacon with his eyes.

"I'm doin' this, Sammy. You can either come or not."

Sam sighed. "You're really going after her?"

"Oh yeah, I'm really goin' after her."

**I know the button is different, but it's still the same concept, REVIEW PLEASE!**


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